


Visions of the Underworld

by Cassidius_Wilde



Category: Original Work, bughead - Fandom
Genre: Demon Jughead, Eventual Smut, F/M, Human Betty Cooper, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29900169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassidius_Wilde/pseuds/Cassidius_Wilde
Summary: After a demon summoning joke goes wrong, Betty meets one of Satan’s offsprings who deems her as his late wife. Questions about her identity are soon answered as they continue with a contract to find the truth.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Visions of the Underworld

**Author's Note:**

> Let the summoning begin.

It was supposed to be a joke. They were supposed to go along with the ritual and laugh about it when nothing happens. But then walls started shaking. The room turned red and it felt like they were surrounded by fire. The circle that Cheryl drew with pig’s blood started glowing too and there was a demonic growl coming from below the mansion’s marble floor.

“Okay, Veronica, you can stop this now,” Betty said frantically, looking at her friend with a nervous expression. Her hand was trembling and the chill soon travelled throughout the rest of her body when Veronica looked at her with the same face. “Veronica!”

“I - I’m not doing anything!” the dark haired female stammered, eyes going back and forth to Betty and the circle. “I swear!”

One of the other girls, Cheryl, made a run for it. She tried opening the door.  _ Tried. _ It was bolted shut as well as the windows. She picked up a chair and threw it at the wooden entrance. When it didn’t work she tried kicking it with so much force the sound should’ve alerted anyone nearby but luck didn’t seem to be on their side.

“Oh my god,” she said, beginning to cry. “Oh my god!” As scared as Betty was, she couldn’t help but take that sight in. That rare moment where Cheryl Blossom looked utterly terrified.

“God?” A deep voice echoed in the circle and a dark form emerged in the middle. “You should’ve known to abandon that name when you decided to summon one of the seven sons of Satan.”

The girls in the room whimpered and shook. _ ‘Am I really going to spend my last moments screaming in Veronica’s shitty house?’  _ Were Cheryl’s buzzing thoughts.

The demon started floating about, knocking several antiques to the floor as Veronica shrieked. He laughed menacingly as he enjoyed watching the fear he brought upon the girls but then he saw  _ her. _ Her golden hair was tied in a neat ponytail and her evergreen eyes stared at him in horror. It made his heart stop, if he even had one anymore.

She looked like - He shook his head.  _ ‘Impossible,’  _ he thought. Elizabeth has been part of the void for over five hundred years now, but to him, it felt like a millennium - all those days of longing and agony for his queen.

Eyes squinting, he opened the doors and out ran the girls, tails between their legs, screaming for their life. Betty was about to head out herself but he shut it in her face just in time. Her hands quivered as they palmed the wooden surface. Even if she had her back to him, she still kept her eyes closed, secretly praying to every known god to let her have some kind of miracle.

“There’s no use in calling the gods now my dear,” he said and Betty jumped with a squeak. She felt him looming behind her like a large predator. He was so close it made her shiver and his head was just beside hers, hot breath skimming the shell of her ear. “That was the agreement. They could save you from any life threatening circumstance but not when you willingly summon a demon.”

Betty restrained her sobs, still standing like a statue as the demon continued to discern why she looked like the way she was. But it wasn’t just her appearance. She smelled like his beloved too. The scent he had longed to take in again for a hundred years. He felt her tremble as he placed his sharp, shadowy claws on her left shoulder. 

He never really cared for anything other than his wife so why did he suddenly have the desire to sooth this mortal woman? It didn’t matter that she looked like  _ her _ but the reactions she gave reminded him of his Elizabeth whenever rough storms passed in the underworld, the way she flinched in his arms when the thunders boomed as they lay in the comfort of his bed.

“W - who are you?” she asked, quavering. He growled though he didn’t know if it was from anger or impulse. The blonde possessed his beloved’s voice as well, the voice that always managed to take his.

“I told you,” he said, twirling her ponytail with his sharp finger. “I’m one of the seven sons of Satan. Forsythe, sin of wrath.”

“Please, let me go,” Betty said, this time with more confidence.

“Well, aren’t you brave? But, no,” Forsythe reluctantly stepped away from her. The room returned to its natural colours, except for the bright, yellow shine of the fire in the hearth and it didn’t feel like hell anymore. She faced him slowly when he suddenly felt like he wasn’t a threat. “You see, I can’t help but wonder why you’re similar to my wife.”

Betty took in his appearance. He was a huge shadowy figure with curved horns and had two red slits for eyes, and his mouth was nothing but an outline of sharp teeth. His stomach curved like he hadn’t eaten in months, and he possessed a tail that waved for a mere second beside his hind legs which looked similar to that of a tiger’s.  _ ‘This thing has a wife?’ _ she thought.

“You look like her. You sound like her. Your eyes are exactly the same shade,” he continued. “You even smell like her.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. Why don’t you ask her yourself,” she tried arguing, fear buried behind her determination to escape. She had no idea what this creature was going on about but she was sure this was her own body. She was born in it and she will die in it. “So, please, let me go.”

“My wife’s dead. She has been for five hundred sixty seven years.”

Betty pursed her mouth. She felt guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“Classic human response. You don’t even know what happened nor do you know me, yet you feel sorry?” Forsythe got close to her again, growling. “I don’t need your pity. What I need are answers to why you’re in my woman’s body. What I  _ need _ is to have her back.” His tone was so desperate it made her want to cry for his pain. This was the most touching plea she had ever heard anyone say and couldn’t help but wonder if him being a demon had anything to do with it. 

Then her distress began to boil again. The demon looked like he was going to swallow her whole, but the questions on the tip of tongue overpowered everything else.  _ ‘Was he telling the truth? If he is, am I really in his wife’s body? Are demons even capable of love? Who  _ am  _ I?’ _

“So you’re not letting me go?” 

“No. Not until I find out.”

Betty swallowed. “What if I help?” she asked.

“And what help can you give me exactly?”

“I - I have these dreams,” she replied, hands clenched on her chest. “I haven’t mentioned this to anyone but I have dreams. I don’t remember what they’re about but I have them. They’re - they’re like visions. The only thing I  _ can  _ remember after I wake up are distorted flashes and a green amulet.”

The demon stretched out his claw-like arm, producing a small, green flame. When the fire dispersed, the ornament she talked about floated above his palm. It was beautiful now that she was able to look at it in person. The green jewel kept glinting as if there was a tiny, white snake trapped inside. The chain was just as shiny and glowed like sunlight.

“This?” he asked.

She stopped breathing. So she wasn’t who she thought she was. Betty clenched her hands and looked at him as she continued, “If - if you can help me remember my dreams, maybe I can help you find out the truth about your wife and maybe I can even find out who I am. But you promise to let me go when we do?”

Forsythe  _ never _ made promises to anyone other than Elizabeth, and even then he wasn’t able to keep it.

_ “Do you promise to stay with me?” _ Her words rang in his head like a broken disk and he winced.

_ “I am yours to keep for eternity, my love. That’s why I made you my queen.” _

“F - Forsythe?” It felt good hearing her voice call out his name again. “Do you promise?”

He sighed. “Fine. What’s your name?”

“Betty. Betty Cooper,” she answered and squeaked when he took her hand in his and kneeled down, her knuckles meeting his cold forehead. His hand was larger compared to hers, his fingers were as big as her wrist.

“I, Forsythe, sin of wrath swear on my father’s name to free Betty Cooper once our agreement is done. Should this vow be broken, may the gods strike us to the ends of the void. Does the mortal consent?”

Green lines started surrounding them like rapidly growing vines and Betty gulped. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to sacrifice her life to find out the truth about herself?

“I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> What do guys think?? Is Forsythe mistaken or is Betty actually in Elizabeth’s body.


End file.
